


A Guide to Halloween Hauntings

by geekinthejeep



Series: Waypoints [1]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Community/Supernatural crossover, Crossover, F/M, Halloween, Mentions of Sam and Dean Winchester - Freeform, ghost-hunting dorks, no knowledge of Supernatural necessary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5120246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekinthejeep/pseuds/geekinthejeep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AKA: "Stairway to the Stars"</p>
<p>The Winchesters are busy; something about The Wicked Witch of the West in the Bunker. So when weird things start happening at The Winchester Mystery House, who better to investigate than Jeff and Annie? And what better night than Halloween?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Guide to Halloween Hauntings

**Author's Note:**

> Jeff/Annie. Part of a Community/Supernatural crossover series called "Waypoints" (others [[here]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1945917/chapters/4851504) and [[here]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1945917/chapters/11224171), wherein Jeff and Annie are monster-hunters, and written as a quick fic for Halloween. No knowledge of Supernatural required.
> 
> And here's a link for those curious about [The Winchester Mystery House](http://www.winchestermysteryhouse.com/).  
> Cross-posted to "The Art of the Meet Cute In the Alternative Universe."

The stairs creak ominously under his feet, the low whine of wood bending beneath his weight. He keeps his flashlight trained intently on the next step and -

\- lets out a loud yelp as his head slams into the ceiling, “God fu-” He stumbles back a step, hands scrabbling for purchase against smooth wood siding and not finding anything, and finds himself tumbling backwards down the stairs.

“Jeff, shut up! We can’t - ow!”

Annie breaks his fall, taking them both down in a tangle of limbs and a clattering of equipment as their flashlights go spinning off across the hardwood floor. He thinks it’s no small miracle that neither of their shotguns go off in the momentary chaos.

He reaches over Annie for his flashlight before he climbs to his feet, offering his hand to her as he points the beam of light back toward where he’d come, trailing up the stairs until it’s interrupted, inexplicably, by a ceiling a dozen steps up.

“This is the second goddamn staircase like that.” he says, glaring at where stair meets ceiling as if at any moment their unknown spirit might appear and explain this newest bit of mysterious design to him.

There’s no such luck, and the sprawling house remains just as eerily silent as it has been for the past hour.

“They’re Stairs to Nowhere.” Annie says from behind him like the walking encyclopedia of all things weird and creepy that she was, leaning down to retrieve her shotgun and flashlight from where they’d slid in the tumble, “The story goes that they’re supposed to confuse the spirits haunting the family that lived here.”

“I’d say a sudden ceiling would do it. You know, just in case the door opening into a wall or the sudden pit to the kitchen didn’t do it. I’ll be lucky if I don’t have brain damage by the end of this.” Jeff grumbles, scrubbing his free hand through his hair as he searches the floor for his gun. God forbid he allow himself to be jumped by one of these supposed to spirits on top of the concussion he’s almost certainly already earned himself tonight.

She has to reach up to pat his shoulder consolingly, but the look on her face is nowhere near as pitying, “You’ll recover. I did try to warn you, you know. This entire house is supposed to a spirit trap. Mrs. Winchester was -”

“ - Yeah, that reminds me.” he interrupts, turning away from the “Stairs to Nowhere” and leading the way back down the hall, “Why aren’t, you know, the Winchesters investigating the Winchester House, again?”

Annie hums thoughtfully, her flashlight trailing slow searching patterns along the walls, “Something about The Wicked Witch of the West?” She shrugs, “I don’t know. Sam said they were occupied and knew we were still in California anyway. Figured it would be an easy case to get us back into the swing of things, I guess.” She tugs on his sleeve, jerking her head toward a new hallway to their right.

He follows along behind her obediently, letting her take point. It’s instinct by now, to be the one watching Annie’s back while she takes lead, and a few months of vacation out of the business hasn’t changed that. Annie knows what she’s doing, has a veritable lifetime of experience rattling around in that gigantic brain of hers that can bag them the monster and keep them both safe. Jeff’s own five years in the hunting business can’t even compare to the artful way that she slides through a case; shotgun pointed unwaveringly in front of her and each step quiet and calculated.

He feels like a schoolboy with a crush.

Except with the added bonus of being able to go back to the motel and make out with her when all of this is over.

“Sarah Winchester, the woman who originally owned this house, was the heiress to the Winchester rifle fortune. It’s believed that a medium -” She interrupts herself with a snort, a lifelong derision of psychics overriding a constant need to be spouting off morbid random bits of information, “- told her that she was being haunted by the spirits of everyone who had been killed by the rifles. So she moved West, built this house, and thought that as long as she kept building, she’d keep them appeased.” She gestures around her with her flashlight, and Jeff knows she’s rolling her eyes even in the near-blackness of the house.

“So what? 80-some odd years after her death, and suddenly the spirits have been let loose again to go after all of those clearly evil minimum wage tour guides? You ever think maybe this is just a really fucking dangerous place to work?” Jeff asks, flashlight beam reflecting off of a window that opens right onto the wall behind it.

“Well, I mean, it would make sense that all of that negative energy would build up in a place like this. Thousands and thousands of people visiting and hearing the legend? That has power. Plus, it’s Halloween.” she says. She takes another turn to the left to follow a staircase that goes seven steps down and twelve up, and Jeff finds himself thoroughly lost by this point.

“What difference does that make? Halloween is just human bullshit.”

“No, not really. It has some basis in fact. It’s when the barrier between our world and the Veil are thinnest, you know?” He doesn’t know, but he hums his agreement anyway to prompt her to continue her brainy rambling, “So, um. Imagine you have a door. And it’s got a hundred different locks and deadbolts and chains holding it shut.” She gestures widely with her hands, flashlight beam glancing across a chandelier above their heads as they continue to walk, “Some Big Bad is still going to get through with the right battering ram. But, the closer you get to Halloween, it’s like more and more of those locks are left undone. So by October 31st, you have a plain boring door and any old spirit with enough knowledge to turn the handle can get through. They’re probably drawn by the energy here.”

“My god.” he says exasperatedly, stopping right in the middle of the hallway until she’s forced to turn and look at him, “You’re such a nerd.”

She snorts, “And you’re an ass. But you don’t hear me telling you that.”

“No, really. It’s a miracle you have any room in that brain of yours for knowledge of mere mortal things. It’s got to be packed full of geeky.” Jeff teases.

“Well maybe if you stopped thinking with your - “ She stops, mouth agape and eyes widening as they land on something over his shoulder at the same time as the EMF detector in his pocket squeals to life, “- Jeff! It just went back that way! Let’s go!” And she’s flying past him, boots echoing loudly off the walls of the cramped hallway while he’s left with no choice but to run after her.

He can see the source of Annie’s excitement just feet in front of them, the blurred, smokey image of an old woman in an outfit at least a hundred years out of date picking up speed as she flees from them. He recognizes her. Of course he does. Research might be more Annie’s gig than his, but the pictures of Mrs. Sarah Winchester were kind of unavoidable in any search for information about the house.

“I told you! I told you it wasn’t nothing!” she shouts, shoes skidding and squeaking on waxed wooden floors as she takes a sharp turn at the end of the hall, “Maybe the spirits have her trapped here! She’s trying to show us!”

He makes the turn just in time to see the ghost of the old woman vanish through the doorway a few feet in front of them, Annie right on her tail. He watches as she yanks the door open, one foot already through before he’s able to reach her and pull her back by the collar of her shirt.

They tumble back to the floor for the second time that night, Annie landing hard against his chest with a gasp. She’s staring down at him with furrowed brows, and Jeff’s half-convinced she’s going to kiss him right then and there.

So it comes as a bit of a surprise when she scrambles off of him with a snarl, “What the hell was that for? She was leading us somewhere!”

“You’re welcome.” He groans, slower to push himself to his feet now that it feels like every bone in his body has been thoroughly bruised, “She was leading us somewhere, alright. Right off the fucking second floor.” He pointed toward the door that had been left ajar, opening into thin air with a view of the sprawling Winchester estate beyond.

“Door to Nowhere.” Annie grumbles, and Jeff is completely unsurprised. Count on Annie to know the name of the thing she almost died running through. Poking her head out cautiously to eye the concrete two stories below, it finally, finally seems like the reality of what just happened seems to hit her as she lets out an angry huff of breath and turns back to face him, “The bitch just tried to kill me!”

“Almost did, too.” Jeff responds, carefully tugging her back away from the door by her arm, “Now, c’mon. We know who our murderous spirit is. We can get the hell out of here before this house kills us.”

She nods, tossing Jeff’s shotgun back to him, “Right. Let’s go burn the old hag.”


End file.
